


By the Water Fountain

by Torifbrown



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Harry Potter, Drinking, Fluff, Gay Panic, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Healer Draco Malfoy, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 17:00:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28816734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Torifbrown/pseuds/Torifbrown
Summary: "But after the day Harry had, he welcomed the blurred around the edges effect that crept into his vision as he downed his 4th drink at a local pub, and it was all because of Draco Bloody Malfoy."
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 7
Kudos: 119





	By the Water Fountain

**Author's Note:**

> Just thought it was worth mentioning that there's lots of drinking in this fic in case that makes anyone uncomfortable!

Harry honestly didn’t drink very often. 

He would occasionally have a beer with friends at dinner or a glass of firewhisky on special occasions. He was typically the designated sober friend when Seamus and Ron wanted to get drunk and sing karaoke in muggle bars, ensuring that they made it safely to their homes at the end of the night. He didn’t mind; he loved seeing his friends happy.  
But after the day Harry had, he welcomed the blurred around the edges effect that crept into his vision as he downed his 4th drink at a local pub, and it was all because of Draco Bloody Malfoy. 

Harry and Draco’s paths began to cross quite frequently, Harry working in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and Draco being the healer to patch up his wounds when his Gryffindor heart outweighed his rational brain and got him into dangerous situations. The fifth time Harry ended up at St. Mungo’s, Draco simply shook his head and muttered, “We have got to stop meeting like this, Potter.” 

After getting over the initial awkwardness of ‘used to be enemies but are now grown adults with bigger issues’, they started to form an almost friendship. They both frequented a small, family owned Middle Eastern restaurant on their lunch breaks that was nearby the hospital, and after running into each other one two many times, decided to start sitting and eating together. “Because there’s no need to give the staff double the work, Potter.” Draco had scoffed when Harry had raised an eyebrow at his suggested arrangement. But he never complained. 

Harry sat on the stiff, wooden barstool, stirring his drink mindlessly and staring at the glistening ice cubes, possibly hoping they had advice for him, when he heard a familiar voice behind him. 

“This seat taken?” Ron Weasley sat down next to Harry and gestured to the bartender. “Can I get a pint of whatever you have on draft?” He turned to look Harry up and down. “You look like hell.” 

Harry raised his glass a bit and mutter “Cheers, mate.” 

Ron snorted. “Who is he and what’s he done to make the great Harry Potter run away to a bar to get plastered alone?” 

When Harry first “came out” to his friends, Ron was the first to accept it. He had a conversation with all of their male friends and told them if they ever said anything cross to Harry about it, he’d hex their bollocks off. He was so grateful for Ron’s unwavering loyalty. 

“How do you know it’s a bloke that’s got me gutted?” Harry replied, still staring down at his drink. 

“Please.” Ron scoffed. “You’ve been staring at that drink like it might lay you on a couch and start giving you relationship advice.” He took a swig of his drink and added “Plus I’ve known you since you were eleven, mate. You’re not as mysterious and hard to read as you think.”

That made Harry laugh and then groan. He put his head in his hands. “Ron. I think that I might fancy someone.”  
Ron looked startled, but replied, “Harry that’s great! Anyone I know?” 

Harry moaned into his hands and hesitated but finally answered. “I think...I think I fancy Draco Malfoy.” 

Harry hadn’t come to this realization quickly. Obviously he knew he was into blokes, but he never really considered anyone he was already acquainted with as an option. His small dating pool consisted of first dates with internet matches and set ups with friends of friends whose only similarity to Harry was their mutual queerness. 

But Draco was...well, Draco. He would insult and tease you to your wits end, but was fiercely protective of the people he loved being their backs. He was outwardly cocky and arrogant, but when Draco sat next to Harry’s bed at St. Mungo’s chatting with him hours after his shift ended, he would confide in Harry all the ways he was immensely unsure of himself. He confessed how frightened he was that someday he wouldn’t be allowed to continue his work because the wrong person wouldn’t want an “Ex Death Eater” saving their life. He admitted that he had been utterly terrified during the war; that he wandered out early on, but had no idea how to get out without risking his and his parents’ lives. He even thanked Harry for the time he saved him in the room of requirement. 

“I never showed you even an ounce of kindness, yet you risked your life just to save me. I didn’t know anyone could be that selfless.”  
Even after all that, Harry still hadn’t put a name to what he was feeling for Draco. He couldn’t pinpoint what it was until that morning; the morning that caused him to end up in the pub in the first place. 

Harry met Draco for lunch at their usual spot. They were talking about the recent Quidditch match that they had both read about in the Daily Prophet.  
“I don’t know why the Harpies don’t just go ahead and make Ginevra the starting seeker. She’s not doing any good on the bench, and she can fly circles around that Malcolm chap.” He sipped his coffee and continued, “I bet she could even give you a run for your money.” 

Harry laughed and took a bite of his falafel. “She could definitely kick my arse at this stage in my life. I haven’t been on a broomstick since the last time I tried to give Rose Weasley a flying lesson, and I think even she was better than me by the end of the day.” Draco flashed an easy smile at him.

They paid for their food and began to walk towards the hospital. There had been a misfired jinx at Harry’s work, resulting in all of the plumbing pouring out fruit pastilles instead of water. It didn’t seem like that big of a deal to him, but he was glad to have the rest of the day off regardless. 

They walked in comfortable silence for a bit. The restaurant hadn’t been busy, so Draco had a few minutes to spare before he needed to return to his shift. They decided to take a seat on the edge of an old fountain in the middle of the square. 

Draco looked at the water and laughed light heartedly. “Muggles are so odd. Why would anyone throw money into the water just to watch it sink? Do they know that it’s useless down there?” 

Harry couldn’t help but smile. “It’s a superstitious tradition. You throw the money in and make a wish, and it’s supposed to come true. I’m not really sure why, though. Maybe because you made some odd kind of offering to the god of water fountains.” Draco pursed his lips and considered this. 

“Here.” Harry said and reached into his pocket and pulled out two sickles. He handed one to Draco and closed his eyes. “I wish that the pipes get filled with candy at work more often so I can spend more time with my dear friend Draco.” He threw the coin over his shoulder, and it splashed into the water. Draco smiled. He stared at the coin in his hand for a long moment, and just as Harry was about to open his mouth and say something, he closed his eyes and closed his hand around the coin. 

“I wish that the world will someday see me for the good things I do in the present and will do in the future rather than the bad things I did in my past.” He tossed the coin over his shoulder and opened his eyes. 

Harry stared into the grey eyes he had lately been becoming more and more familiar with. There was a hint of sadness there, but also a look of steadfast finality. He knew that Draco would continue to try and pay for his mistakes time and time again, whether through healing those who needed him or reinventing himself into the kindhearted, compassionate individual he was today. A gust of wind suddenly blew his platinum blonde hair into his face, and without thinking, Harry reached up and gently pushed it out of the way, revealing his grey eyes once again. Draco stiffened, and Harry dropped his hand and looked away. After a too long pause, Draco cleared his throat. 

“I’ll- I better go inside, then.” He stood and brushed off the back of his trousers. Harry, carefully avoiding his eyes, nodded and stood as well. They both murmured awkward goodbyes and went their separate ways. 

•••

Harry rested his elbows on the sticky bar top and groaned again. He fancied Draco Malfoy, and now he wasn’t sure if he’d ever recover.  
Ron spluttered a bit, then finally said, “Well, it could be worse. At least he’s pretty attractive.” 

Harry shifted his gaze towards his friend, frowning. “Yes I’m quite aware of that, thanks.” He sighed. “I think I just need to have a few more drinks about it.”  
Ron smiled and patted Harry on the shoulder. Suddenly, his phone chimed, causing Ron to jump. He was still having trouble getting used to muggle technology. 

He frowned. “Uh oh. ‘Mione says baby Hugo’s got a stomach bug. I better get home and relieve her for a bit.” He stood up and said pointedly to Harry, “It’s not the end of the world, mate. If you think it’ll work, ask him out. If you don’t-“ he shrugged “I guess you’re on the right track.” He gestured towards Harry’s empty glass. “Listen, don’t try and apparate in your condition. Get a cab or something, and call me if you need anything.” Harry grunted a response, not knowing if he could say anything coherent in his state. Ron patted his shoulder again, then turned and headed out the door. 

Harry sighed, then asked the bartender for another drink. 

After a while, the crowd in the pub began to dwindle down, and Harry realized he should probably make the trek home. He stood up and saw stars and knew Ron was right; he definitely could not apparate like this, unless he wanted half of him to end up in the Pacific Ocean. But there was one problem- Harry didn’t have any muggle money for a cab, and he was too drunk to remember what to do in this situation. He remembered Ron’s offer and picked up his phone and went to his recent calls. He was about to choose Ron’s contact when he saw another name. 

'Malfoy' with a little green snake emoji.

Harry giggled and grinned, and thought ‘what the hell?’ He stepped outside and clicked the call button. 

It rang one and a half times, and a gravelly voice grumbled, “Potter? What the hell are you doing, do you know what time it is?” 

Harry snorted and replied, “Yes Draco, I do know how to read.” He giggled. “Just because I’m not in Ravenclaw doesn’t mean I’m stupid.” 

There was a short pause, and Draco remarked, “Are you drunk?” 

“Hmm”, Harry mused happily, and said, “Extremely.”

Draco let out an exasperated sigh, and there was a shuffle of movement on the other line. “Where are you?” He demanded. 

Harry looked and his vision swam. “Um. London?” He heard Draco inhale and start to say something, but quickly continued. “I’m just kidding, hah. There’s a street sign, but I don’t know what it says. Maybe I can’t read...” he trailed off. Then he spotted a familiar sculpture in front of a small park, and he perked up. “Oh! I see my statue!” He narrowed his eyes at the golden replica of him that had been placed there not too long ago. “It’s really embarrassing that they put that here. And I don’t think I’m actually that tall.” 

Draco sighed again, and said, “Potter. I’ll be there in approximately 4 seconds. Please try not to die.” The line went dead, and Harry heard the *crack* of someone apparating next to him. 

Put together, ready for the day Draco was already a sight to see; his pure blood upbringing instilled a need to constantly look flawless, no wrinkles or hairs out of place. He had immaculate posture, and one could tell by merely looking at him that he was someone important. But rumpled, hair perfectly messy, fresh out of bed blinking sleep from his eyes Draco? Well. 

He was so beautiful Harry could cry. 

“Hi.” Harry grinned drunkenly at him. Draco pursed his lips, looking equally amused and annoyed at the same time. 

He murmured a simple, “Hello.” 

Harry stared at his face, so gorgeously illuminated in the moonlight, sharp edges softened by the glow. Even in his drunken state, he wondered how he missed this; how he hadn’t recognized the burning need to stroke his ivory skin, run his fingers over his sharp nose, his lips... 

Harry shook his head and sighed. “I’m drunk.” 

Draco’s mouth turned up slightly at the corner, and he simply replied, “Quite.” He turned to look around. “We can side along apparate as long as you don’t try to do it yourself. Otherwise we’ll both end up splinched between here and Merlin knows where.” Draco put one arm around Harry’s waist and the other firmly on his bicep so they were chest to chest, while Harry tried to ignore the butterflies in his stomach. 

Draco looked at him softly, expression unreadable, and asked, “Are you ready?” Harry swallowed and nodded, trying to ignore how close their faces were. Harry closed his eyes and hoped he didn’t vomit as the familiar feeling pulled at his stomach and the air swirled around him.

Just as quickly as it had started, everything suddenly stilled. “Harry.” Draco whispered. Harry opened his eyes to see Draco staring at him intently, with the same soft and confusing look as earlier. “Come on, I’ll help you up the stairs.” 

Harry vaguely noticed that he didn’t quite recognize where they were, but he was focusing most of his attention on breathing steadily. He was extremely aware that Draco kept a firm hand on Harry’s waist as they walked up the stairs to a quaint little townhouse. Draco unlocked the door with the key and quietly let Harry inside. 

At this point, Harry could feel his eyes starting to close on their own and his legs start to grow weak from exhaustion. Luckily, Draco led Harry to a bedroom with a beautiful wooden four poster bed. He sat down on the edge and rubbed his temples while Draco rummaged through a dresser. He pulled out a shirt and a pair of sleep pants and handed them to Harry. 

“I’ll run and get you a glass of water.” He patted the top of Harry’s head before exiting the room and closing the door behind him. Harry quickly changed out of his stiff work clothes into the more comfortable ones Draco had leant him. He ran a hand through his unruly curls and moved to lay down. Draco came back with a glass of water and a small vial. 

“Take this in the morning. It’ll help a bit.” Draco smiled as he sat on the edge of the bed and shook his head. “I never thought I’d have to be the one to rescue Harry Potter from a drunken escapade.” 

Harry snorted sleepily. “I’m usually not one to drown my sorrows, but there’s a first time for everything.” 

Draco pressed his mouth into a hard line and retorted, “Who’s the lucky girl that got to break The Chosen One’s heart?” 

Harry just stared at him confused for a moment, before blurting out, “I’m gay.” Draco raised an eyebrow, and he continued, “Like, really really gay.” 

Draco once again got that unreadable expression on his face, but his shoulders relaxed a little bit. “Well, I hope whoever had you ‘drowning your sorrows’, as you so eloquently put it, is worth it.” He started to stand up, but Harry clumsily grabbed for his hand. 

“Wait no.” He frowned. “Keep talking, I want to fall asleep to the sound of your voice.” Draco’s face reddened (and Harry was way too drunk to consider what that meant), but nodded and sat back down. 

“What would you like me to talk about, then?” Harry closed his eyes and relaxed. “Tell me more about your wish. At the fountain.”

He heard Draco’s breathing, not slow and even, but not panting either. Harry was vaguely aware that he was still clutching Draco’s hand. “I know that there’s no excuse for my actions. I’m well aware that I hurt more people than I can even begin to understand,” he hesitated, “but I hope someday I’ll be remembered as someone who eventually started to help rather than hurt.” 

Harry wanted to keep listening, wanted Draco to talk to him until his voice gave out, but exhaustion was slowly taking over. He softly squeezed Draco’s hand and murmured, “I’ll always know that. I’ll remember.” 

As Harry drifted off to sleep, Draco whispered, “Thank you, Harry.” 

••• 

Harry woke up the next morning feeling as though he had been repeatedly run over by the knight bus. He groaned and sat up. With a start, he realized he was not in his bedroom. He looked around the light grey room as the events of the night before came flooding back to him. “Oh Merlin.” He moaned and put his head in his hands. 

“No, sorry, just me.” Draco smiled as he walked through the door. He set a mug of steaming tea next to Harry and said, “Three sugars and a pinch of cinnamon.” Harry looked up at him, squinting a bit as his eyes adjusted to the light. 

“You know how I like my tea.” He stated blatantly. “But I’ve never told you that before.” Draco looked away, embarrassed. 

“I’ve eaten lunch with you almost every day for the past four months, Potter. It’s an insult to my intelligence that you think I’m that unobservant.” There was no malice in his voice, only light hearted teasing. He looked at the bedside table and handed Harry his glasses and the vial he placed there the night before. “This won’t cure a hangover, but it’ll make it a hell of a lot more bearable.” 

Harry mumbled a thanks and slid his glasses onto his face. He downed the potion in one gulp and grimaced. Draco laughed at whatever face Harry was making. He grumbled, “Remind me never to go near alcohol again.” 

“Duly noted.” Draco said with another grin. “Come one them, I’ll make breakfast.” 

Harry walked into the living room and noticed the blanket and pillow laid on the couch. “You slept on the sofa?” Harry asked. 

Draco shrugged. “My bed was a bit occupied for the night.” 

“I would have shared.” Harry replied without thinking. Draco looked away and busied himself in the kitchen.

What on Earth was wrong with him, Harry wondered idly. Draco apparently had the uncanny ability to make Harry say whatever was on his mind, both drunk and hungover it seemed. Draco started to hum to himself while he buttered bread, and Harry walked over and sat himself on the counter and allowed himself to really stare. 

Draco was in the same rumpled shirt and sleep pants he had been wearing when he rescued Harry from the streets of London the night before. His hair was a bit flattened in the back from his pillow, and he had his sleeves pushed up to his elbows. Harry let himself daydream about getting to witness this every morning; waking up to Draco, looking like a slightly disheveled Adonis, making Harry breakfast. His heart yearned for the domesticity of it all. 

He didn’t realize he’d been caught staring until he looked up and his eyes met Draco’s. His cheeks warmed and he but his lip, embarrassed, but didn’t look away. He tapped his fingers on the counter anxiously. Draco stared at him for a moment longer then looked away, continuing his cooking. “Are cheese toasties alright? I always like a bit of comfort food when I’m hungover.” Draco smiled at him, a small but still dazzling smile. 

“You don’t have to do that for me, I’m fine with anything, really.” He looked down at his fingers still tapping the counter. 

Suddenly Draco’s hand covered his, halting his anxious tapping. “A bit restless, are we?” he teased softly. Harry looked up, about to respond, and realized Draco’s face was mere inches away from his own. He wasn’t sure if it was the leftover alcohol in his system or if it was his stupid, reckless Gryffindor heart, but something in him made him suddenly close the distance between them to kiss him. 

As soon as he did it, he regretted it and pulled away. He leaped down from the counter and stumbled away towards the living room. 

“I’m- er, sorry, I’ll just...” he stuttered. “I’m going to go.” 

Draco reached an arm out to him. “Harry, wait-“ 

“Thank you for, um, all this. I-“, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “See you later.” 

He quickly disapparated, leaving Draco standing in the kitchen looking confused, his arm still extended towards Harry. 

••• 

Harry hadn’t moved from his spot on the couch since he had arrived in his flat 3 hours earlier. He laid on his back with his arm flung over his eyes, his head still pounding from the hangover and his mortifying actions in Draco’s kitchen. His heart sank every time he thought about it. The truth was, even before Harry’s discovery of his more than friendly feelings towards Draco, he’d cherished their relationship. Ron and Hermione were great friends, but they were everything to each other and often were lost in their own bubble, which was something Harry couldn’t and didn’t want to compete with. His relationship with Draco was something Harry had all to himself. It was effortless and easy, and he found himself looking forward to any time they spent together. He knew he’d ruined everything, and he was already grieving the loss of their friendship. 

There was a soft knock on his door. He groaned. A local football team had been going door to door selling magazines to raise money for some kind of tournament for the past week. He got up and slowly walked to the door. As he opened it he said, “Look guys, I already bought a subscription last week, I’m really not interested in-“. He looked up. 

Draco stood in the doorway with a tentative smile plastered on his face. He held up a brown paper sack and said, “You left without your breakfast.” Harry blinked at him, not processing what was going on. “Er-“, Draco rubbed his hand on the back of his neck, “can I come in?” 

Harry blinked and nodded, stepping out of the way. Draco walked to the sofa and sat down. He looked back at Harry, who was still standing by the doorway looking flabbergasted, and gestured towards the empty seat next to him. Harry swallowed and slowly walked to the couch, sitting as far away from Draco as the tiny love seat allowed.  
They were both silent for a moment. Harry started to tap his fingers anxiously on the cushions, but he remembered what had happened the last time he had done that near Draco and decided to put his hands in his lap instead. 

Draco finally broke the silence by saying, “Do you remember Blaise Zabini?” 

Harry pursed his lips at the odd question but answered, “Of course. He works over at Gringotts now, right?” 

Draco nodded and continued, “He and I had a sort of fling in our fifth year. Very casual, very secret, but still very real.” 

Harry stared at him blankly until realization dawned on him. “So...you’re saying that you’re-". 

“‘Like, really really gay’ as you so eloquently put it last night.” Draco smirked at him, and Harry gave him a tentative smile in return. Draco nonchalantly slid his knee closer to Harry’s and looked at him until he finally met his eyes. 

“And”, he began, ”I think that I’d like to give you a proper kiss, if that’s alright with you.” 

Harry swallowed loudly but managed to say, “I’d like that very much.” Draco smiled and slowly raised his hand to stroke Harry’s cheek. He moved towards him painfully slow, and Harry closedhis eyes and exhaled, parting his lips in a slight ‘o’ shape. Draco closed the last few inches between them and pressed their lips together. 

Draco’s lips were soft and warm as they moved slowly against his own. Harry slid a bit closer and placed one hand on Draco’s knee and the other at the nape of his neck, twisting his fingers in his hair and deepening their kiss. Draco slowly slid his tongue along Harry’s bottom lip and let out a soft moan. Harry, in a moment of blind confidence moved his hands to Draco’s thighs and pulled him onto his lap, never breaking their kiss. He felt Draco skim his teeth along Harry’s lip as Harry slid his hands underneath Draco’s shirt, resting on his hips and gently tracing circles on his bare skin. Draco moved his hands into Harry’s hair and tugged gently, making him gasp and accidentally breaking their lips’ embrace. Draco pressed their foreheads together, eyes still closed and trying to catch their breath. Harry opened his eyes and silently traced his fingers across Draco’s facial features like he had longed to do last night. Draco leaned into Harry’s palm, still straddling him with his hands tangled in Harry’s ebony hair. 

Harry was the one to eventually break their silence. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

Draco quirked up an eyebrow. “You mean why didn’t I tell you that I’m gay, or why didn’t I tell you that I’ve wanted to snog the hell out of you since I was fifteen? Either way, it’s not something that just easily comes up in conversation, Potter.” He rolled his eyes but stroked his thumb against Harry’s face. 

“Well you could’ve told me either way. I-“, Harry stopped. “Wait. Did you say fifteen?” 

Draco but his lip. “I was a prat, I know. But I didn’t know how else to cope with falling for my sworn enemy. Very un-Slytherin of me.” Draco shifted so he was now sitting next to Harry with his legs stretched out across his lap. He held Harry’s hand in both of his and gently stroked his long fingers. “How long have-“, Draco stumbled, “Er-, when did you, um, realize?” 

Harry laughed quietly. “Well I’ve known I was gay since I was 17. But I only discovered my feelings for you-“, Harry put his hand under Draco’s chin and pulled his face up to look at him, “less than 24 hours ago.” Draco’s face was so comical he couldn’t help but laugh. “I knew I felt something for you; a tug in my stomach perhaps. But I only put a name to it yesterday. You know, drowning my sorrows and that whole bit.” Harry paused, watching Draco’s face, then continued, “And I think you are, by the way.” 

Draco looked at him questioningly. “Are what?” 

Harry smiled a crooked smile at him and replied, “You said you hoped whoever I was drinking about was worth it.” He pushed Draco’s hair out of his eyes like he had only yesterday at the fountain. “And I definitely think you are.”

Draco sighed. “Bloody Gryffindor’s. Ridiculous romantics, the lot of you.” But he beamed at him and pulled Harry in to kiss him again before saying, “Harry Potter, you have the most brilliant soul I have ever had the privilege of encountering.” 

Harry grinned and pushed him down on his back into the sofa and moved to hover over him. “Now who’s the romantic?” Harry stared into those granite grey eyes and smiled before kissing him once again.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! This is my first ever Drarry fic, so please feel free to comment any suggestions or tips! <3


End file.
